The Education of Edgar Frog
by IcedHotChocolate
Summary: Edgar walks in on Michael and David one day, and decides to ask his brother some... questions.
1. Part 1

**The Education of Edgar Frog**

**Disclaimer: **We do not own _The Lost Boys_, unfortunately. If we did, it would be… interesting.

**Summary: **After walking in on Michael and David one day, Edgar decides to ask his brother some… questions.

**Warnings: **For now, just immaturity and mentions of slashiness. Rated T just to be safe. If we continue it, maybe other stuff.**UNBETA'D. **You have been warned.

**Pairings: **Just a side of Michael/David (OTP) for now

It all started that day when Edgar walked in on Michael and David doing each other in Michael's room. He had been there to drop off a new comic for Sammy, and had heard some strange noises coming from behind Michael's door. He thought that maybe Michael had been doing something creepy and vampiric.

Edgar had taken his trusty stake and holy water squirt gun and crept down the hall towards Michael's room. When he threw upon the door, however, instead of finding Michael eating someone, or something like that, he had found him and David naked, rolling around on Michael's bed. That was totally weird and unexpected.

"It was totally weird and unexpected," Edgar told Allen later that day. Allen nodded and sipped at his green bendy straw. Everyone knows that bendy straws are infinitely superior to all other sorts of drinking mechanisms.

"I mean," Edgar continued, "I don't really understand how it even works." Allen almost choked on his chocolate milk. How could you not understand something like that?

"You're joking, right?" he asked, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Edgar slowly shook his head. As you probably know, Edgar was a very _special _boy, and unlike most people his age, he was almost entirely unaware of the mechanics of all things sexual. He had always been too busy worrying about vampires and comics to notice, much less care about the interactions of hormonal humans.

"You're serious?" Allen gaped at Edgar. That was just unnatural, and kind of creepy.

Edgar nodded, completely clueless as to why Allen was so distressed. Allen set down his chocolate milk carton and glanced around the comic store to make sure they weren't being overheard.

"Well, you know how it works between a guy and a girl, right?" he asked. There was a moment of awkward silence as Edgar shifted from foot to foot. Allen raised both of his eyebrows almost as high as his hairline.

"No way, man." Allen had to hold in a giggle.

"Not so loud…" Edgar whispered.

Edgar quickly picked up the nearest Batman comic book and pretended to be engrossed in its contents.

"Look man," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, flipping through the pages, "If I wanted to made fun of, I would have just asked Sammy or something." Allen put a hand over his mouth to hide his grin.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop," he said, "But seriously dude, you have no idea what happens after people start kissing?" Edgar violently shook his head.

"Not so loud!" Edgar hissed again. Edgar grabbed the collar of Allen's shirt and dragged him right next to him, so it looked like they were both engrossed in the comic book.

"Look, really quietly, just tell me right now," he said.

Allen snickered for a second. "Man, there is no way to _tell_. I have to _show_ you." Edgar's eyes widened in horror.

"I meant draw it…" Allen rolled his eyes at his brother.

"I would _never _do you," he said. Edgar tilted his head to the side.

"…do?" he said in a confused voice. Allen sighed, exasperated.

"Do you have a pen, man?" This might be difficult.

"Uh… yeah," Edgar rooted around in his pockets for a pen. "Here." He handed Allen a glittery purple gel pen. Allen look at the pen, and looked back at Edgar. Edgar looked away, trying to school his face into a manly expression.

"It's not mine," he muttered. Allen nodded.

"Sure," he said, and flipped slowly through the pages in the Batman comic book until he found what he was looking for: a relatively blank page, with only a little picture of Robin cavorting in the corner.

"Ok," said Allen, uncapping the pen. "So, this is a guy." He drew a little figure with a small line in its crotch. He pointed the pen at the little line.

"That's his noodle," said Allen.

"His… noodle?" asked Edgar, eyes wide.

A punk in the Spiderman section glanced over at the two, with raised eyebrows. Allen pulled Edgar closer to the comic. "Shut up, dude!" he muttered. Edgar huffed.

"Sorry man," he said. "But what is it?" Allen hit Edgar's shoulder.

"Dumbass!" he muttered, "His appendage!"

Edgar blinked.

"His tool!"

Edgar raised an eyebrow.

"His equipment!"

Edgar looked at him, confused. Then, he smiled.

"Oh, I know what you mean," he said. He leaned in, and whispered conspiratorially, "A power drill." Allen groaned.

"His _penis_ you idiot!"

The punk looked over again.

"Oh… his… noodle?"

"Yes, Edgar. His noodle." Allen hunched over the comic book again with the purple pen.

"This is girl. These are her, uh, watermelons. This is her… taco."

"Watermelons? Noodles? Tacos? Man, you're confusing me. What's with all the food?" Edgar asked. Allen slapped him again. He found that it was a very effective way to keep his stupid brother from talking.

"Do you know what boobs are?" he asked. Edgar nodded.

"Duh," he said. "Everyone knows what boobs are." The punk in the Spiderman section began to inch away slowly. Allen raised his eyebrow.

"Oh really," he said, not quite believing him, "Then what are they?" Edgar rolled his eyes.

"They're those bags of milk that girls have stuck where their nipples should be," he said. Allen sighed.

"I guess you could put it that way," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"…You'll learn later," Allen said, and once more put the pen to the comic book. Edgar peered over his shoulder.

"What does the taco do?" he asked. Allen bit his tongue. He hadn't known his brother was this ignorant.

"Well, it's kind of like…" he tried to find a way to explain it. "Sort of… an inside out noodle." Edgar wrinkled his nose.

"Ew man," he said, "You're joking, right?"

Allen shook his head. "Here, I think I know a better way to explain how this works. He absentmindedly set the edited comic back on the shelf and dragged his brother outside to the Boardwalk.

Some time later they arrived at one of the carnival games; the one where you have to squirt water into a target, usually a clown's mouth or something.

"Edgar… the water is the noodle, and the target hole is that taco." Edgar blinked slowly, not quite understanding.

"See over there?" Allen gestured to the roller coaster going through a tunnel on the track. "The roller coaster is the noodle, and the tunnel is the taco." Edgar shuddered and began to pale. He was pretty sure he knew what his brother was talking about now.

"Look at that kid eating the corn dog." Edgar's eyes followed Allen's finger. "The corn dog is the noodle, and his mouth is the taco." Edgar looked like he had just thrown up in his mouth a little bit. He was beginning to shake. Allen slapped the side of his face.

"Edgar, stay with me here," he said. "Look at that basketball." Edgar reluctantly turned his head toward the basketball. "The basketball is the noodle, and the hoop is a taco." Edgar put his hands over his eyes to block out the images. Allen grinned. This was more fun than he had thought it would be.

"It's everywhere Edgar," he said, "Look around you. Everywhere you turn." Edgar began to whimper quietly.

"No more Allen," he begged, "Please." Allen laughed.

"Come on man, look at the birds going into the drainpipes, and little kids crawling under chairs," he cackled. Edgar shook his head.

"La la la I'm not listening!" he shouted, trying to run away from Allen. Allen grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back over to him.

"Watch me put the cap on this pen, Edgar." He clicked the purple, sparkly cap on and off of the pen. This was too much for Edgar. He sank to his knees and curled up in the fetal position.

"Don't be a baby, Eddy," teased Allen. "One more." He slowly curled the fingers on one hand into an 'O', and pointed the index finger on the other. Edgar watched, trembling with horror, as he slowly brought his two hands closer and closer together, until finally his index finger was nestled inside the 'O'.

Edgar screamed, turning his face away from his brother and towards the ground. What could there be on the ground that could possibly in any way represent a noodle, or a taco, or even watermelons?

Two ants… on top of each other. Edgar could almost see one's noodle…

Edgar wailed in mortal agony and didn't move from his position until almost twenty minutes had passed.

Allen had sat there patiently, chuckling to himself as he pointed out many more examples of noodles and tacos. Finally, Edgar stopped shaking as much, and his weeping quieted to a silent sniffle.

"I think I understand now," he said in a hushed whisper. "Can we go home Allen? Please?" Allen laughed at his brother. Sometimes he wondered if they were even related.

"You think that's bad," he said, "You don't know the half of it." Edgar began to quiver again.

"Guess how you were made, Edgar?" Allen chuckled as his brother looked very confused for a moment. Then, comprehension dawned upon Edgar's face.

"No…" he whispered. Allen nodded.

"Yes, Edgar," he said solemnly.

"Mom and Dad…?"

"Yes," said Allen. He once again made the sex gesture with his fingers. Edgar let out an anguished sob.

"I wanna go home, Allen!" he cried. "I don't want to look at the… tacos and noodles anymore!" Allen grinned and held out his hand to his brother. Edgar gingerly took his hand and let him help him up.

They walked the rest of the way home in silence, except for Allen taking a moment to point out a pair of mating birds, or two love struck teenagers groping each other's faces with their tongues.

Edgar walked with his head bent and his hands in his pockets, until he realized that his hands could be acting as noodles, and his pockets as tacos. He removed them immediately.

"Welcome home, boys!" The brother's mother stood in the doorway of their house, adorned in an apron and oven mitts. Edgar took one look at his mother and his eyes widened.

"You… and dad… noodle...!" he stuttered. His mother looked at him, confused. Edgar screamed and pushed past her. Allen rolled his eyes as his brother dashed up to their room.

"What's wrong with your brother?" asked his mom, very confused.

"I have no idea," said Allen, giving his mother a swift kiss on the cheek. "Maybe he read a weird comic or something." He made a quick detour to the kitchen to grab some more chocolate milk and a cookie, then headed upstairs to the room the two boys shared. When he tried the doorknob, though, the door didn't budge.

"Stay away!" came Edgar's voice from inside. Allen sighed.

"It's only me, Edgar," he said. "Open the door." He could hear a muffled thumping noise from inside. It sounded like there was a pile of junk crashing down right in front of the door.

"No!" shouted Edgar. "You, and your noodles, and your watermelons, and your tacos can stay outside! I'm going to stay in here, where it's safe!" Allen could hear Edgar dashing around frantically, moving what sounded like piles of random junk.

"Edgar?" he asked. "Are you… barricading the door?" There was a pause in the crashing around.

"…maybe." Allen sighed.

"Edgar, just let me in," he said tiredly.

"No! Just, stay away!" Edgar screamed. "Go… suck a noodle, or something!"

There was a pause. "Wait… Allen? Can people even…"

"Yes, Edgar." A muffled scream came from inside the bedroom, then a quiet lullaby.

"Edgar, are you singing to someone in there?"

"You're my only friend, Sparkles," Edgar murmured to his old grey cat. "You're the only thing around here that doesn't have anything to do with a noodle or a taco."

There was another moment of silence. Then—

"Oh no, Sparkles… not you too!"

Allen rolled his eyes.

"I… I can cure you Sparkles… trust me. Allen?"

"Yes?" He replied.

"Can you get me some scissors?"

Allen, suddenly realizing what the requested item was to be used for, immediately body slammed the bedroom door, forcing the pile of junk aside.

Sparkles lay on his back, legs parted, and all of his little kitty bits fully revealed. Edgar kneeled above him, with a bandana tied over his face, and a plastic knife in his hand. The cat seemed totally unaware of what was going on, and Edgar looked absolutely insane.

"Edgar, no!" yelled Allen, jumping through the air in slow motion. Edgar sluggishly turned his head, his light brown hair bouncing in a totally irrational gust of wind. Allen tackled him (still in slow motion), and tried to wrestle the knife out of his hand.

"Edgar, don't do this!" he yelled as he tried to rip the knife from his little brother's grasp.

"Allen, I must!" yelled Edgar, "It's the only way!"

Sparkles, delighted at his new freedom, bolted from the room while he had the chance. Edgar grumbled and let Allen pull the knife from his hand.

"Great, now I'm going to have to catch him again," he muttered, "Thanks a lot Allen." Allen took the knife and sprinted over to the window. He quickly opened it and threw the knife out into the road.

"What'd you do that for man?" protested Edgar. "That was my special surgical instrument!" Allen closed the window and turned back to his brother.

"Edgar, get a grip," he said. "If I had known that telling you the facts of life would have made you this crazy, I wouldn't have said anything." Edgar glared at him and rolled over onto his side.

"Well, you did, and now I will have to carry this burden forever," he said. "There is nothing I can do, except try to help the world as best I can. Truth, justice, and the American way will triumph." Allen groaned.

"Yes, but not like this, Edgar," he said. "This is _bad_. What you were trying to do to Sparkles was _not good_."

"Why not? Noodles make life complicated."

"I can't argue with that… but it's a good kind of complication! Plus, you could've hurt Sparkles!"

Edgar, horrified at the idea of hurting his poor kitty, was silent. Allen was very thankful for that.

"Now, Edgar, I think you still have to learn more before you can justify acting like a lunatic," he said. Edgar's eyes widened.

"No!" he shrieked. "I don't want to learn any more!"

"You must, Edgar, you must." Allen admitted to finding a perverse sort of pleasure in tormenting his brother like this.

"Never!" Edgar began to roll around on the floor again.

"Don't you have _any_ questions? Anything stuck in the back of your mind? Now's your only chance to ask… unless you want to ask Sammy…"

Edgar shuddered at the thought of that kind of humiliation. "No it's okay. Just… how did Michael and David… they don't have tacos…"

"No, they don't. But they do have something else. They're called man-tacos." Edgar looked very confused.

"Guys have tacos?"

"In a different place than girls do."

"Um… where?" Allen smiled very slowly.

Allen reached over for Edgar's favorite teddy bear; the old brown one with one eye. "Here," he pointed at the bear's backside, "is where the man-taco is located."

"That means I… I… I have a man-taco too! Allen, so do you! And Sammy and Michael and David and everyone!" Edgar's mind seemed like it was threatening to implode.

"Yes, Edgar. Everyone does."

"Then that means that everyone can put… in their man-tacos!" Edgar shivered. "But why? That's where, you know, doo doo comes out." Allen scoffed at his brother's immaturity.

"You can be a man and just call it poop," he said. Allen was clearly a very good example of manliness. "And not everyone sticks noodles in their man-tacos. If they're a girl and they have a regular taco, they usually just use that, because it's available. People like David and Michael use it because they have no other option." Edgar gagged.

"I think it sounds gross and stupid," he said. "I don't know why people do things like that with their noodles." Allen snickered.

"Well, Edgar, does your noodle ever stand up?" he asked. Edgar blushed.

"Sometimes…" he muttered. Allen grinned.

"Well, see, sticking your noodle in a taco makes it stop standing up, and it feels good," he said. Edgar looked down at his crotch. Allen must be lying. There was no way that something like that could be true.

"It's true," Allen said to his brother, as if reading his thoughts.

"Then… why did Michael and David look like they were in pain when they were… uh… you know."

"Well. Can you imagine sticking something that big up there?"

"David's isn't big, it's tiny!" Edgar grinned as he remembered what he had seen in Michael's bedroom.

"What?"

"I'm serious! It was like, this big!" Edgar made a four inch gesture with his fingers.

"But Michael's, wow man, it was like _this!_" He held his hands ten inches apart. "Or close to that, anyway. I think that was why he was on the bottom."

It was Allen's turn to be stunned. He sat on the bed, picturing this for a moment. "So that's why David could wear such tight pants!"

"Yeah…"

Allen grinned.

"How big is yours, Edgar?" he asked. Edgar retched.

"I don't know man!" he said, "I don't just sit here looking at it."

Allen laughed. "You just don't want to tell me because you're afraid that you don't share my giant noodle genes."

Edgar looked about ready to throw up everything he had eaten in the past week.

"I'm kidding, man! No sweat."

Edgar's face slowly contorted back to normal and he took a deep breath in. "I think, Allen, that I would like to read my new comic for the rest of the day, all right? No more noodle talk."

Allen laughed again, but didn't leave the room.

"Allen, just your presence makes me think of noodles," said Edgar calmly. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Go do whatever you do for fun." Allen cackled. Edgar groaned.

"Please don't make that noise," he said, "Just leave the room."

"Alright Edgar," said Allen, walking over to the door. "Enjoy your comic."

"And remember," he called as he closed the door behind him, "If you ever have any questions, do not hesitate to ask your loving older brother."

-- Somewhere in the Santa Carla comic book store, an innocent little boy is being scarred for life by a certain picture in Batman Comic #44, left behind by two young teenage brothers --

**Author's Note: **Yeah, so we decided to try our hand at writing some Lost Boys fiction because there just isn't enough of it. The Frog brothers just don't get the love they deserve. We might continue this, we don't really know yet. Writing things together is fun!


	2. Part 2

**The Education of Edgar Frog: Part II**

**Disclaimer: **We do not own the Lost Boys, the Lost Boys own us.

**Summary: **Alan seeks help from an unexpected ally. Further immaturity on the part of the authors ensues.

**Warning: **More fifth grade humor, and slashiness. Still **unbeta'd.**

**Pairings: **A side of Michael/David, because it's canon, SERIOUSLY.

**Note: **We spelled 'Alan' wrong the entire first chapter. Major apologies, we will go back and fix it when we are feeling sort of unlazy.

Edgar threw his comic at the wall. Every time he saw Robin, he thought of the little people Alan had drawn by that picture of Robin, and that reminded him of noodles and tacos, which reminded him that they were all around him, and he would never escape them. Before Alan had enlightened him, he had thought the world was a relatively safe place. Oh, how horribly wrong he had been.

Now, he knew what lurked around every corner in this world. The shadows held something much bigger and much more dangerous than he had ever imagined. He had spent all his life trying to find the best way to rid the world of vampires. Vampires had always seemed like the greatest threat the universe had to offer. Now, he had a new, stronger, more sinister foe to battle: noodles.

Damn those noodles! Those treacherous, horrible, dangerous, sinister, frightening, ruthless, nasty, disgraceful, repulsive, upsetting, abhorrent—

"Edgar? Man?" He heard his brother Alan knock on the door that he had banished him from a few hours earlier.

"Go away!" shouted Edgar, hiding his head under his limited edition novelty Batman pillow. Batman… oh no… Batman went with Robin, who went with Alan's sparkly little drawings, which meant noodles and tacos…

This was horrible. He needed help, badly. Maybe if he looked through the phone book he could find a good therapist. But the phone book was downstairs, and that meant he would have to leave his little haven of safety and sanity. Anything remotely noodle like had been removed from his direct line of vision. Everything except for the pillow. Though it pained him to imagine it, the pillow might have to go.

"Edgar, you can't hide in there forever," said Alan, carefully opening the door a crack. Edgar squeaked and burrowed into the blankets.

"Leave me alone Alan," he said, his voice muffled by his pillow. "I can feel my mind beginning to liquidate; I don't need you to make it any worse."

"I'm not, dude. I'm only trying to help you," Alan said, very convincingly.

Edgar slowly lifted his head from the Batman pillow. Could it be? Was his brother really going to try to help him?

"What do you want?" Edgar asked cautiously.

"I know some people that can help you banish these thoughts from your mind." Alan gave him what he hoped was a comforting smile, and not an amused smirk.

"Really?" Edgar rose and walked cautiously over to the door. He put his hand on the doorknob, ready to open it. "Promise, Alan? No tricks?" he asked. He couldn't trust the outside world as readily now; it held unspeakable dangers.

"Yeah, no tricks. Will you come out now?" Edgar opened the door very slowly. He poked his head out and his eyes shifted back and forth, scanning the surroundings for any sign of trickery, or rather, noodlery.

After establishing that nothing was there to remind him even remotely of noodles or tacos, except his brother rolling his eyes in the middle of the hallway, Edgar reluctantly stepped outside his safe haven of a bedroom. No flying noodles zoomed out from around the corner, and no walls turned into giant man eating tacos. He was safe… for now.

Alan took a good handful of Edgar's shirtsleeve in his hand and dragged him downstairs and out the door, making a quick excuse to be out of the house for a few hours to his mother. She nodded, smiling blandly, and turned back to whatever she was doing. As they passed her, Edgar sent her his best, most evil death glare. The one that he was sure was enough to set vampires on fire from across a crowded room.

As they stepped outside, Alan realized that Edgar was muttering quietly to himself. He couldn't quite catch what he was saying, but it sounded like a very intense discussion. The kind of discussion that you should not have with yourself in public, if you want to remain _outside_ of the local insane asylum.

"…noodle in her taco! Dad's noodle! I can't believe her!" Edgar ranted, beginning to make violent hand gestures. "Way to set an example for us! Shameless! Disgusting! Trashy! Can't believe her…" Alan pinched Edgar's ear. Edgar yelped and looked at him, rubbing his ear.

"What was that for?" he asked, nursing his 'wound'. "I'm already emotionally scarred for all of eternity, thanks to your little talk, and your stupid drawings. You don't need to make it worse by physically abusing me." Alan rolled his eyes. Edgar was more melodramatic than anyone he had ever met. He would make a lovely character in a horrible soap opera.

"Edgar, you need to get over this whole thing," he said. Edgar opened his mouth to protest and Alan cut him off. "I know you're incapable of doing that yourself, and I seem to be unable to help you with it, or maybe you're just being stubborn. So, anyway, I'm going to take you to an expert." Edgar's eyes widened.

"An expert?" he said, suspicious, "An expert on what?" Alan raised his eyebrow and gave him a long look. The 'you know…' look.

The answer dawned on Edgar, and Alan could sense a very loud scream and possibly a few minor seizures approaching. Before Edgar had the chance to have one of his epic fits, he tackled him onto the ground and put his hand over Edgar's mouth.

"Edgar, we're in public," he reminded his brother, "Contain yourself."

Edgar gave a small whimper and nodded slowly, pushing Alan. Alan got to his feet and helped his brother up. Edgar stood up and meticulously brushed off the front of his pants.

"Alan," he asked, looking up at his brother with wide eyes, "What are they going to do to me?" Alan sighed.

"Edgar, don't be difficult. We're just going to talk," he said, "Honestly." Edgar raised his eyebrows and gave him his patented Supreme Vampire Hunter Of Doom look. "I promise, okay?" said Alan, "Now let's go."

The two brothers set off to their destination on their bikes, pedaling rapidly through the crowded streets of Santa Carla. The sky was turning the color of graphite as the day melted into twilight. The "respectable" people of the town were beginning to migrate into their homes, and the "miscreants" were beginning to gather in large groups on the sidewalk. Edgar was so distracted that he nearly ran into a huge group of them.

Alan looked back to make sure his brother was alright and snickered to himself as he thought of the entertainment he would be getting in the next hour or so. Edgar heard him snicker and wondered if he should just turn into the next alley they came to and bike away as fast as possible. He could grab a few comics and some candy, and go sit on a lovely bench somewhere _very_ far away from any noodles.

At last, the chilled winds of the Pacific Ocean grew stronger and the cliff came into sight. As Sammy would say, it smelled like something had died. They jumped off of their bikes and leaned them against a heavily gratified sign. Edgar looked around. He had been here before. This was…

"Alan!" he said, "This is the vampire's lair! I didn't bring my stakes with me!" Alan scratched his head.

"Well, uh, you won't need them," he said. "I talked to them and they promised that they wouldn't attack us." Edgar gasped and stepped back, a look of pure shock on his face.

"Y-you talked to _vampires_?" he cried. "Our sworn enemies? The scum of the earth? The murderers of innocent humans? The—"

"Yes, Edgar, I did," said Alan, "It required a lot of personal strength on my part, but I did it anyway. I did it for you." Edgar felt a surge of manly emotion at the courageousness of his brother.

"Alright Alan," he said, "I trust you." Alan grinned.

"Good, now come on," he said. The two of them walked carefully down the suspended bridge that lead to the vampire's cave. Edgar hesitated for a moment at the entrance, but clenched his jaw and went in anyway. The cave was dark, lit only by a few flickering candles. In the corner, the two could see the blue glow of a TV screen. They tiptoed over to the source of the glow.

Michael and David were cuddling on the couch and watching a film on Pilates. Alan raised an eyebrow and Edgar instinctively reached for where his stakes would have been. The two vampires didn't seem to notice them. They appeared entranced by the men in spandex cavorting around on the screen.

"Alan, why vampires? We swore that we would never talk to vampires about anything!" Edgar whispered as they waited for Michael and David to notice their presence.

"I'm sorry Edgar," Alan said, "But I just don't know anyone else with their level of expertise." Edgar made a face. Alan chuckled. "Seriously though," he said, "David's been alive for hundreds of years. Don't you think that he's been able to get in lots of… noodling during that time?" Edgar retched.

"Can we not think about that?" he pleaded, "Pretty please, Alan?"

Alan shook his head and tapped David on the shoulder. "David? We need your assistance. I believe I talked to you about this a few hours ago?"

David grinned at Edgar. Edgar cowered in the corner. Michael's eyes were still glued to the screen, as a fit young man in spandex bent over, and another one stood behind him, pressing on his back. Michael leaned towards the screen a little, and unconsciously wiped a little bit of drool from the corner of his mouth.

David grabbed Michael's shoulder and pulled him up to a standing position, looking him straight in the eye with one raised eyebrow. He gave him the I-thought-I'm-the-only-one-you-looked-at look. You know that look. The I'm-going-to-do-very-naughty-things-to-you-if-you-keep-ignoring-me look. Commonly seen on the faces of jealous boyfriends and nuns.

Michael muttered an apology and switched his attention to Edgar. He looked at Edgar's face, chest, legs, and ass with an expert's eye. "So what do we need to do to you, Edgar?"

Edgar started shaking.

"C'mon guys, he's not ready for that yet. He needs more time. Maybe he'll be ready in a month or two," Alan said to the vampires.

"Ready for what?!" shrieked Edgar. "Alan, did you sell me as a man-taco slave? To _vampires_? How could you? I thought you loved me!" Alan almost choked. David and Michael looked at each other, confused. What was this "man-taco" of which he spoke?

"Edgar…" said Alan, "It's totally fine. Nothing's going into your man-taco today."

"_Today_?!" Edgar tried to back away, but Alan grabbed his shoulder and held him firmly.

"Yes Edgar, today. Your preferences may change, you never know." Alan turned to Michael and David. "Start out slow; you know how it is the first time."

Michael and David nodded knowingly.

"Okay Edgar, so how much do you know?" David asked, displaying an unnatural amount of kindness and sensitivity. This ruthless, flesh-eating monster was being compassionate. That showed how sacred a topic this was.

Edgar shivered as he remembered the scarring conversation he and his brother had that morning. They were asking him to repeat it to them? What was wrong with these people? The world had _problems_. More problems than him, even.

"I know about… noodles, and how they go into… tacos, and uh," he stuttered, glancing down at the ground, then back up at the three people watching him, "Sometimes they go into man-tacos, and… um, people's mouths?" Edgar shifted nervously from foot to foot.

Alan whispered something in the David's ear.

"Ah," David said, "then we'll start with the necessities." He clapped his hands together and thought for a moment.

"Now, before you begin, you need to… lube up," he said, making a hand job motion in the air.

Edgar gave him a confused look.

"It's to ease the entry and smooth out the movement, of the, or, uh…" David tried to put it in a way that wouldn't scar Edgar too deeply.

"In and out of the man-taco," Alan added helpfully.

Edgar looked confused, then completely horrified and started to shrivel up again. Alan tightened his grip on Edgar's shoulder and held him in place.

"I'd recommend AstroGlide," said Michael, grinning, "The grape flavor smells very nice." David shook his head.

"Michael is weird," he said, "Strawberry is _clearly_ superior to grape." Michael rolled his eyes.

"In any case, sometimes this kind of stuff isn't at hand, so… emergency replacements are needed," he said.

Edgar's eyes widened in fear. Were they talking about… what he _thought_ they were?

"…like?" he said quietly.

"Honey works well," David said, "Or mustard."

"I like peanut butter," Michael added, "Just make sure it isn't the crunchy type."

"We've used lotion before too," continued David, "And toothpaste, and raw eggs, and saliva."

"Cheese Whiz was an interesting experiment," mused Michael, and they smiled at each other fondly, silently recalling the memories.

"Could you use… chocolate milk?" asked Alan, his eyes clouding over as he imagined the possibilities.

The vampires looked at each other and thought for a moment. "Can we get back to you on that?" asked Michael, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Uh, sure…" Alan answered.

"Whatever the case may be, never, I repeat_ never_ do it without a lubricant of some sort. Never _ever_," said David.

"Yeah," agreed Michael, "it hurts. I speak from experience here." David pulled Michael into a hug and kissed him gently on the forehead.

"I'm so sorry about that…" he murmured. Michael at his rubbed his butt as if remembering the experience.

"And always wear a condom," said David, finally turning away from his lover, "so you don't get AIDS." He continued to stroke the small of Michael's back.

"And so you don't get pregnant!" Alan said, a very serious expression on his face. "You don't want to have a man-baby, Edgar."

Alan received odd looks from all ends of the room.

"I told you Alan, I'm _never_ putting _anything_ in my man-taco!" Edgar shouted defiantly, covering his ass with his hands. Alan grinned.

"You don't know that for sure," he pointed out, "What if, one day, some really cute guy walks into the comic book store and you just can't help yourself…" Edgar twitched. Michael giggled.

"It was like that for us!" he said, "Only, we met at the boardwalk, and our first time ended up being under a bridge." Alan turned back towards Michael and raised his eyebrow.

"How did _that _happen?" he asked. David grinned, patting Michael's butt.

"Well, see, we were having this… initiation of sorts," he said, his eyes glazing over as he remembered that day, "And we decided to ask Michael to jump off a bridge." Michael hid his head in David's shoulder. David looked down at at him and smiled.

"At first, he was so scared," David continued, quickly dodging a bitch slap from Michael, "But then, he was very brave and he jumped off with us, into the canyon. Then, we had sex in the canyon." Alan rubbed at his forehead, trying to cleanse it of the images.

"It was awesome," said David, "Michael passed out eventually, and I had to carry him home." Edgar made loud gagging noises.

"Really?" Michael asked. David nodded. "So that's how I ended up… I see."

"What did you end up using for lube that time?" Alan asked.

"Let's see… I do believe Dwayne had a few spare packets of mustard from the drive through that we went to. And a novelty glow in the dark condom," Michael said.

"Limited edition," added David, "it was very hard to find."

"Uh huh…" said Edgar. Remembering that time suddenly filled David and Michael with intense passion and began to stare into each other's eyes.

"So…" said Alan, trying to break up the moment, "what else does Edgar need to know?"

"Well," said David, trying to think of anything else that was vital for a teenage boy to know.

"He needs to know how to pick a boyfriend," said Michael. , "He needs to find _the right one_, you know? His _soul mate_." Alan and David nodded in agreement.

"Wait!" protested Edgar, "What if I don't want a _boy_friend? What's wrong with girlfriends?"

Silence.

"Are _all _of the vampires here gay?" asked Edgar, slowly looking around the tastefully decorated cave, and at David and Michael's wardrobe. There was another moment of awkward silence.

"Well," said David finally, "Paul's bi." Michael laughed.

"Barely," he muttered, "I've only seen him ever even glance at a girl, and she totally looked like a man." Edgar looked a bit distressed.

"Well, then, what about Sammy?" he asked. Sammy was one of the only other guys around his age that he knew. David and Michael began to laugh uncontrollably. Michael clutched at his sides, and David wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye. They looked like they were barely getting enough air, they were laughing so hard. Edgar looked around, confused.

"Are you kidding?" said Alan, holding his hand over his mouth to conceal his giggles, "Have you _seen _his bathrobe?" Edgar nodded in understanding. He definitely had a point there.

"Well, then," said Edgar, "Maybe I'm the only not gay one here." David and Michael stopped laughing.

"I don't think so," said Michael, looking at him.

"You give off… the vibe," said David.

"The what?" asked Edgar, totally confused. David sighed and gestured toward his headband and long hair.

"I'm not gay!" said Alan, trying to mess up his perfectly combed hair.

"Yes you are," said Michael, "Shut up Alan."

"Wait, what's wrong with my headband?" asked Edgar. "It makes look manly!" David coughed. Michael snickered at both Alan and Edgar. The two of them were actually much more similar than they thought they were. Edgar might have been a little bit more ridiculous than Alan, but only a little bit.

"I will have you know that I am 100 manly man!" cried Alan, flexing his rather small biceps. Edgar nodded in agreement, adjusting his manly headband. David sighed.

"Well, we can't help you if you're in denial," he said, "But if you ever have any questions, or need any advice, we're the people to ask." Michael smiled and put his arm around David's shoulder.

"David, all this talk of, uh, noodling has made me want to… noodle," he said. "I think we should escort our lovely young guests out and get down to business." David cackled and grinned.

"That sounds like a very good idea," he said. He turned towards the Frog brothers.

"Please leave now," he said. "We have some important things to, uh, take care of." Michael nodded and made a shooing motion. Alan made a retching noise and grabbed his brother's shoulder.

"Let's go," he said. "I really don't want to overhear this."

David had one of those grins that made Edgar feel very, very nervous. He got all shifty and uncomfortable and broke into a faster walk, dragging Alan's sleeve close behind.

"No more agreements with vampires, Alan. I _told_ you they never came to any good…" Alan sighed.

"I told you, this was a special case," he said. Edgar grumbled.

"No you didn't," he pointed out, "and besides, not even the most special of cases could justify peaceful relations with the greatest enemy of our kind." Edgar felt safer now that they were out of the cave, though it was already very dark outside. He turned to his brother and made his best epic face.

"Alan," he said, trying to make his voice sound deeper, "Remember, we fight for truth, justice, and the American way." Alan suddenly became serious and pulled the same face Edgar had. "You are only too right, my brother. We must never forget what we stand for. In our hearts, you know?"

Edgar nodded; it was a pretty deep moment.

"To make up for it, we won't talk to, discuss, or even think about vampires for a full 24 hours," Alan said.

Edgar nodded again.

"We'll need provisions," he pointed out. Alan grunted in manly agreement. You can't do something like that without provisions.

"I'm almost out of chocolate milk anyway," he said.

"I want gummy worms," said Edgar, "I like the strawberry ones the best."

"Eww, no! The blue ones, man," Alan exclaimed, "those are the only way to go."

"Well Alan, I guess they're _all right_…"

"All right? Are you kidding? They are the most phenomenal things that your taste buds will ever experience in your whole pathetic life."

Edgar rolled his eyes.

"Besides Edgar, don't you think the pink ones look an awful lot like noodles?"

Edgar's eyes widened with sudden remembrance. "Never mind, Alan, I like the blue ones."

"Let's go get provisions, and then we can go home." Edgar nodded, then stopped, looking confused.

"Wait, if we're going home, why do we need the provisions then?" Alan pondered this for a moment.

"I forgot," he said.

"I forgot too," said Edgar.

They stood there in the moonlight nodding repeatedly and looking quite epic. The bond of their manly brotherly friendship was inspirational. If they hadn't been so manly, tears of pure emotion would be pouring down their faces.

Alan gave one final, strong nod and firmly draped his brother's shoulder with his arm and they walked stately on into the night, keeping rhythm with the 80s beat of their hearts. The wind ruffled their hair and an epic soundtrack soared in the background. They could feel their hot, manly blood pumping through their veins.

(Fade to black)

(Fade back into color)

"Alan," said Edgar, stopping. Alan turned around, upset that Edgar had killed the moment.

"What?" he asked irritably.

"We forgot our bikes," Edgar said, pointing back towards the cliff. Alan cursed under his breath.

"I guess we should go back and get them," he said, starting back towards the vampire's lair. Suddenly, a scream pierced the air.

"Oh god, David! DAVID! Yes! Harder! Harder, you bastard!" Edgar and Alan screeched to a halt, their eyes wide.

"Spank me harder! I've been such a naughty boy!"

Edgar hid his face in his hands. Alan readjusted his shirt.

"Maybe we should, um, go back and get them in the morning," he said. Edgar nodded. They turned around and continued towards home. The epic music resumed.

(Fade to black)

**Author's Note: **Well, we wrote a second chapter because we have waaaaaaayyy too much fun writing this. Edgar and Alan are just absolutely amazing to write about, and our reviewers made us seriously EXPLODE with joys : Cloud opened her email in English class, and saw reviews, and we read them, and they made an otherwise unbearable class amazing. Every time you review, we send you a hundred virtual hugs and smoochies and little plushie Markos that you can snuggle with.


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